


Study partners

by mochiboom



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, PWP, none at all, yeah there's no plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiboom/pseuds/mochiboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gakuto and Yuushi never seem to get any privacy. 'Studying' for them actually means studying, unlike the rest of his rotten, annoying teammates who seem to have all the luck in the world when it comes to intimacy with their other halves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Study partners

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read. Any mistakes are my own.

Gakuto finds it _really_ hard to concentrate on homework whenever he does it at Yuushi’s house.

 

It’s not that Yuushi does anything to deliberately distract him; quite the opposite. While Gakuto sprawls on Yuushi’s bed, notes, pencils and textbooks everywhere, Yuushi sits at his desk, angled just towards Gakuto, a sliver of his cheek showing behind a curtain of hair.

 

But he doesn’t _do_ anything other than the occasional shift in his chair as he encounters a tricky algebra problem, or he sometimes rolls his shoulders, or cracks his neck. But they’re both perfectly chaste, because while the temptation is always present, humming in the air between them, Yuushi’s mother checks on the so often, and having your boyfriend’s mother stick her head ‘round the door when only mere seconds ago Yuushi had Gakuto pinned to the bed with one hand tangled in Gakuto’s hair and the other down the front of Gakuto’s trousers, really, _really_ kills the mood.

 

Gakuto envies Jirou; Atobe, whose parents are away more often than not, has taken to conditioning his servants into leaving he and Jirou be for at least two hours every evening; door locked and no questions asked. No wonder Jirou’s always silently smug whenever Gakuto whines to him about having no privacy. Even Hiyoshi gets more privacy with his girlfriend than Yuushi and Gakuto do.

 

But there’s no way in hell he’d ever take Yuushi to his house, not with his bull of a father and his terror of a younger brother. The two of them drive Gakuto crazy, and his sister insists on stealing all of Gakuto’s hairclips and just generally being a nuisance. No, he’d rather take his chances at being walked in on at Yuushi’s than having to resort to barricading his own bedroom door shut.

 

Gakuto complains about this incessantly to anyone, besides Yuushi, who’ll listen. Choutarou just nods patiently, Shishido rolls his eyes and Kabaji just stands there vaguely uncomfortable until Atobe commands him away. It’s ridiculous; why is it only he and Yuushi have this problem?

 

Gakuto jabs his notebook moodily with a pencil. Thinking about how much he _won’t_ be scoring tonight has put him in a foul mood, and the last thing he wants to do now is English. Yuushi’s chair squeaks obnoxiously and Gakuto jerks his head up to find Yuushi staring at him as he reclines in the chair. Gakuto glares at him.

 

“ _What?_ ” He snaps, moody. Yuushi raises an eyebrow and taps his own lip with the end of his pencil. Gakuto’s glare deepens to a scowl. “I said, _what?_ ” he repeats, moving into a sitting position on Yuushi’s bed, legs loosely crossed and runs a hand irritably through his hair.

 

Yuushi removes the damn pencil from his mouth and twirls it idly in his hands. “Oh nothing.” He says, innocently. “Only how nice it is to see you lying so prettily on my bed.” He tosses his pencils, casually, onto the desk behind him and drapes his forearms over the arms of his chair. Gakuto flushes and looks away, the back of his neck heating up.

 

“Why do you _say_ stuff like that when you know we’re not alone?” He whines, fidgeting with the hem of his leggings. Oh how Yuushi’s mother had frowned when he’d come in wearing leggings. But Gakuto likes how they make his ass look really round. He also likes how Yuushi’s eyes kind of glaze over slightly behind his glasses whenever Gakuto bends over or lies down. Gakuto makes sure to do it _a lot_.

 

Yuushi just smirks at him, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Haven’t you noticed how quiet everyone seems to be today?” He asks, voice nonchalant. “And how mother’s only looked in once during the whole four hours you’ve been here?” he pauses and Gakuto stares at him, the crease of a frown forming between his eyebrows. Come to think of it, Yuushi’s house has been really quiet today.

 

He stands up to quickly he knocks a pencil and a textbook to the floor. “You mean to tell me, while we’ve been sitting in here doing homework that _nobody’s home_!?” He voice rises to a shrill scream at the end. Yuushi spreads his hands but he’s smiling and Gakuto advances on him like an angry cat.

 

They end up with Gakuto in Yuushi’s lap, Gakuto’s legs spread wide over Yuushi’s thighs and Gakuto gives up any pretence of being angry as Yuushi’s hand slowly starts to slide up the back of Gakuto’s shirt. Their clothes join Gakuto's textbook and pencil on the floor. Behind them, their homework lies forgotten, abandoned in favour of much more exciting activities. And if Yuushi’s algebra gets crumpled in Gakuto’s fist as Yuushi leisurely takes his time fucking him over the desk, well that can hardly be Gakuto’s fault now, can it?

 

In revenge, Yuushi moves them to the bed where Gakuto’s (and Shishido’s, Gakuto remembers belatedly as he comes for the second time that evening) English notes stick to Gakuto’s back and get spattered with lube and come. Gakuto smacks Yuushi on the arm for his trouble, but there’s no anger in it and he mostly misses. He can hardly be expected to have complete motor control when Yuushi has his mouth around Gakuto’s dick; all velvety-smooth and hot. He comes embarrassingly loudly, Yuushi’s name leaving his lips in a choked-off moan until Yuushi slips his own tongue inside Gakuto’s willing mouth and fucks himself against the jut of Gakuto’s hip to completion.

 

Gakuto lies there, quietly stunned and chest heaving, as his notes crinkle with every move they make. Weakly, he lifts his hand from its place on Yuushi’s chest and thumps it back down, hard. Well at least he _thinks_ it’s hard, but he came so hard his limbs feel all mushy it’s been a while, okay?).

“You.” He forces out. Yuushi smiles down at him, no glasses on and eyes dark. “You _asshole._ ” He spits, curling further into the warmth of Yuushi’s body as goosebumps erupt across his skin. “All that time.” He laments. “All that time and you _made me wait._ ”

 

He shivers as Yuushi bites down gently on the curve of his shoulder, nosing through the shock of red hair that spills over Gakuto’s neck. “Oh I am sorry, Gakuto.” He murmurs throatily, hand slipping lower and lower until he’s stroking just above the curve of Gakuto’s ass. Gakuto’s mouth drops open and he whines a little. “Do let me make it up to you.” His hand slides lower and Gakuto shamelessly arches into it, lets Yuushi push him onto his back and winds his arms round Yuushi’s neck.

                               

“I suppose that’s acceptable.” He whispers against Yuushi’s lips. After all, Yuushi’s always been very, _very_ good at making it up to him.


End file.
